


Tomorrow and Tomorrow

by Elrakismk2



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), POV Second Person, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 14:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19814245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elrakismk2/pseuds/Elrakismk2
Summary: A story about memories, love, and moving forward.In other words, Haurchefant knows you before the 7th Calamity, but you don't remember him.





	Tomorrow and Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> For a friend, who cried with me at the end of Shadowbringers.  
> There are quotes from the original game texts, all right reserved to Square Enix Ltd.  
> All mistakes are my own.

You dreamed about acres and acres of brilliant flowers.

In the flickering, blurry light of the dream, you sat under a gigantic tree, looking over to the great city beyond the sea of mist.

You dreamed about somebody’s laugh, somebody’s promise. About somebody’s sea blue eyes, their smile like the breaking dawn.

And like every other dream, it dissolved like a puff of smoke; like throwing a piece of rock into a tranquil lake, disappearing into the depth of your mind.

Like dusts of time, washed away in the sea of stars, out of your grasp and never came back.

* * *

You woke with a start, sweat drenching your back as sunlight shining onto the cobblestone wall, almost blinding your eyes in the process. Your mind is still addled with the shaken feeling of the dream, but you, like any other time, couldn’t remember a single thing.

Disoriented, you looked around as memories suddenly flooding back -

The ceremony. Nanamo’s death. Betrayal. Raubahn’s scream. Fighting for your lives. Losing your companions in order to escape.

Haurchefant and the _Falling Snows_. A place to hide, to regroup, and to move forward.

Alphinaud and Tataru were still asleep on the other side of the couch, huddled together with identical frowns on their faces. You couldn't imagine how it felt for Alphinaud - betrayed by people who were supposed to be _loyal_ , not to mention the burden, the despair, and the broken dream.

All that hard work, like the fire in the fireplace, had died down to a pile of insignificant ashes during the seemingly darkest night.

Haurchefant - the man had shed away his flirty facade when he welcomed you into his care, his smile soft and his eyes warm. He promised safety and apologized for the less-than-ideal living condition, as if he ought to be the one _apologizing_. You remembered how your words got stuck in your throat and how you felt nothing but numb, the hot-chocolate helped, the cozy fire helped, Haurchefant helped. But now you woke up and everything started to sink in. You wanted to scream again. How unfair it was. For you, for Alphinaud and the entire Scion, for Haurchefant.

The Knight vowed that he’d came back with permits to enter Ishgard and told you to not worry, that he was sure Count Fortemps would help.

You didn’t doubt him.

He left last night after a few comforting words. You wandered a bit while Alphinaud sat and brood - Yaelle was concerned, Corentiaux said it was their turn to help you, the guard was friendly enough to offer you more blankets for the cold. All those kindness just made you more aggreived. More disappointed in every thing.

“Ah…you’re awake already,” Alphinaud mumbled, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You blinked at him, “How are you feeling?”

Alphinaud snorted, shaking his head, “As good as it can be, I guess. I’m sorry, it’s all my fault, and all I did yesterday was feeling sorry for myself.”

Anger clouded your mind again, and you rose to your feet and started pacing around the room, “No, it’s not, stop blaming yourself, who’d known Ilberd was such a _coward_?”

“She’s right, Alphinaud.” Tataru said, rubbing her eyes, “You can’t blame yourself for everything.”

“I shouldn’t be so arrogant, so…sure of myself, what even is _Crystal Braves_? A bunch of lies built upon my own idiocy.”

You were going to argue when the door opened, Haurchefant stood there with a broad smile, “Good morning!”

“Lord Haurchefant - ” Alphinaud started, and promptly got interrupted.

“They’re right, Master Alphinaud. It was not yourself to blame but the ones who betrayed your trust. Now, my friends, Count Fortemps welcomes you into Ishgard. You’ll be protected there until the situation calms. I believe you’ll need warmer clothes, so I retreived several coats while I was there.” Haurchefant’s fingers grazed your skin slightly as he handed you the winter-coat, and he winked at you, “It won’t do if you catch your death, am I wrong?”

“Right…” You mumbled, but thanked him nonetheless.

“Anyways!” Haurchefant exclaimed after he handed the clothing to Alphinaud and Tataru, “Shall we depart at once? You can have breakfast at the Forgotten Knights, their muffins are the best!”

* * *

You still remember the first time you met Haurchefant.

The man was… _passionate,_ and even that can’t really sum up his over-friendly attitude. But he was good looking, kind-hearted, and a brilliant sword wielder, so you hid your prejudice and decided to go along. You weren’t afraid to admit to him now that you thought he’s a fraud when you first met, if not for Francel, who sworn on his behalf and all the people around Camp Dragonhead appeared to be the utmost loyal subordinates you’ve ever seen, you’d turn right back and write the whole thing off. He turned out to be one of the most trustworthy people - who saw you as a friend, not the savior, not the Warrior of Light, but _you_.

You realized you never told him that. You never told him how thankful you are and how relieved each time you saw him. You never admitted every time you stop by you can feel his aether reaches out to yours and that makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

Maybe the reason you still hide these things from him it’s because sometimes you felt like you couldn’t understand the Knight at all. Like the way he stared at you when he thought you weren’t looking; the way he smiled at you and you haven’t seen him smile like that to anybody else; the way he talked to you, the light dancing in his eyes, the occasional touches - you had no idea why but there seemed to be more behind his gaze.

Still, it was freeing to be with him between your travels. Despite being a busy man, organizing everything in Dragonhead, Haurchefant said he’d always make sure to have time for you.

You couldn’t fathom the reason behind that at all.

When you talked to Tataru about this, she just gave you a strange look, called you daft and went back to her budgets.

One day Francel called after you as you passed through Skyfire Locks, and asked about your age - of all things.

“Uh, 22? Why?”

“Oh, nothing.” Francel looked disappointed, “Just thought you looked like somebody I know. But the age doesn’t add up so I guess I’m just delusional.”

Of course, you offered to help, and he just shook his head and smiled sadly, saying the person died in the Seventh Calamity and he was a sentimental fool.

“Oh.” You said, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve came to terms with it, but not…” Francel sighed, “It isn’t my place to tell you, so forget I said anything.”

You looked at him, but swept this particular interlude under the rug, and it wasn’t later - much later - that you realized the unspoken part of his words.

* * *

Days merged into weeks in Ishgard. Count Fortemps was a kind man, Aymeric was more than happy to accept your help and offer you help in return. Artoriel was stern and wary at first, but accepted you after some time spent together. Emmanellain was an idiot, but you were somehow jealous of him - how good could it be if you were also that naive and carefree?

You found yourself once again sat across Haurchefant in his personal quarters at Camp Dragonhead one day, accepting the hot chocolate and the man’s warm smile.

“How is it that you can have free time whenever you want?” You lifted an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, waving his hand in a vague gesture, “The perks of being the commander? Ah, I simply pushed things around in my schedule to have these relaxing periods with you, my friend.”

“If I’m bothering you -” You started, but he just shrugged, sipping his own drink.

“You aren’t bothering me, ever, do believe that.” Haurchefant grinned, “Besides, I could use some distractions when all I do is planning shifts and arranging budgets. Corentiaux was scolding me the other day when I mentioned how I wanted to go back to the battlefield.”

You snorted, “Aren’t you having fun watching your subordinates doing squats?”

Haurchefant rolled his eyes at you, “Still not over that, are you? Can’t one enjoy the glory of musculinity? Yours is still the best, by the way, all those adventures had done miracles.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “Anyway, isn’t that fiasco with Emmanellain enough for you?”

“He’s a delight to be with, isn’t he?” The Elezen offered a fond smile over his cup, “I remember when he was…ah, Master Alphinaud’s age, he’d slack off private school all the time to flirt with girls, and the Count was _furious_. Can you imagine that man being angry at all? I think Artoriel was forced to look after him for three months.”

“Haurchefant,” You started tentatively, “I’ve…heard things…”

“Yes?” His smile didn’t falter, “You shan’t be afraid to say anything in front of me.”

You looked down at the hot-chocolate, and sighed, “I know.”

Haurchefant looked at you encouragingly.

“They said you were - I mean, the Count -”

“Ah,” He nodded, “Not the best kept secret, is it? At this point I suspect it’s common knowledge that I’m the illegitimate child of the Fortemps.”

“So it’s…true?”

He shrugged, “True enough, I’ve never doubted the Count, nor the distain from the late Countess. I believe the animosity of Artoriel to me is also because of the truthfulness behind - let’s say, my heritage.”

You remembered the cold expression of Artoriel that first day, and suddenly it made sense, but then your mind was shouting again - _unfair, unfair, unfair._

“And…it doesn’t bother you?” You stared into his calm eyes, your heart clencing on its own accord.

The Elezen shook his head, “What is there to be bothered by? It’s all true, is it not? The Count treats me as his own, even more so after the Countess passed away years ago. The only ones who’re bothered by this are perhaps the Heavens’ Ward, though we rarely cross paths. It is better this way, I should think - all my accomplishment is of my own, not my name.”

“Sometimes I wish - I can also be like that,” You vented, “all the rubbish that is the Warrior of Light, not that I’m ungrateful for my powers but, sometimes it’s too much. Just because I have the bloody Echo doesn’t mean I didn’t fight my own battles!”

He reaches over to cover your balled-up hands with his own, his eyes warm and sincere, “I haven’t a doubt that all your achievements are your hard work, my friend, and I believe all your companions think so too.”

“You’re too kind.” You told him, staring at your joint hands, “Someone - I couldn’t remember - told me that no matter what happens I can’t give into my internal darkness, but there’re times when it’s -”

“I know.” Haurchefant sighed, his voice soft and his hands gentle, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “and it is not wrong to think that way, no one is a saint - despite his Holiness would like you to believe,” He laughed lightly, “and it’s perfectly acceptable to feel angry.”

You suddenly wanted to cry, and you looked at him, wide-eyed and full of panic. He looked back with understanding and warmth.

“Also perfectly allowed to cry.” He said.

“How can you be so wise?” You choked out, “When you’re so...so...”

“Young? Loss and war, probably.” He offered you a sad and tired smile, “The Calamity took away a lot of things.”

And you saw his gaze again, deep, affectionate, with miles and miles of sorrow.

“Who did you lose?” You whispered, and only realized a second too late that it was invasive and rude.

Haurchefant didn’t seem to be bothered, though, as his hands were still warm on yours, “A very dear friend.”

You blinked, and looked into his eyes again. You didn’t know what to say except a quiet “I’m sorry”. He shook his head, tapped you on the back of your hand, and asked if you’d like more hot-chocolate.

For reasons you weren’t aware of, his hot-chocolate was different than everybody else’s. A lot more delicious, in your opinion.

* * *

Things started to get a lot more hectic after you somehow befriended Ysayle and Estinien, and you saw Haurchrfant less and less when most of your days were spent traveling across Dravania.

You wrote to him, talking about the sceneries, the stupid fights between Estinien and Ysayle, the annoying errands from the Moogles.

He often replied with the stories around Dragonhead, or the advancement in Ishgard.

You asked him to keep an eye on Tataru, because after the incident with the Heavens' Ward you weren’t going to take any more chances.

He promised you and joked about how Alphinaud should be the troublemaker because of his age, but somehow it was the other way around.

Estinien once caught you smiling at the letter, and asked about it. You said Haurchefant was funny.

“Hmph,” The dragoon crossed his arms, “I suppose.”

You eyed him, “You’ve known him longer than I do.”

“That’s not even a question.” You could even hear the eye-roll in his voice, “But yes, mainly through Aymeric. I assume you want to ask about him?”

“I guess,” You sighed, “I first thought he’s straightforward and easy to understand, but there’s a lot more than meets the eye, am I wrong?”

“Can’t argue with that. Besides the rubbish you’ve probably heard in Ishgard, Haurchefant is...well, I’ve only heard from Aymeric that he suffered from a terrible loss during the Calamity, but somehow he pushed through and acted as if nothing happened. Quite mad, if I had any say in it,” Estinien shook his head, “he’s a good man nonetheless. ‘Tis easy to trust him and he would never betray your trust. And if that story about the Calamity is anything to go by, he’s stronger than either of us.”

You stared into the distance, and suddenly you remembered what Francel said almost a lifetime ago.

Suddenly you felt like yelling again.

_Unfair, unfair, unfair._

Did you remind him about his loss? Was he suffering every time when he saw you and haunted by someone who couldn’t come back?

Was this why he always looked at you with those sorrowful eyes because he still couldn’t come to terms with the missing piece in his life?

His kindness, his caring voice, his smile and hot-chocolate - were they meant for you or for somebody else?

You slipped into an uneasy dream that night, and woke up to a concerned Alphinaud. You realized you’ve been crying in your sleep.

But when he asked, you blinked, and couldn’t remember anything.

* * *

Pandemonium broke after you dealt with the mess in Ul’dah and with Nidhogg, and you rushed back to Ishgard at the very first moment possible. The cane in your hands was thrumming with aether as you casted healing spells after healing spells, and you felt Haurchefant’s aether around you, supporting you, leading you forward.

That was the only thing that helped you through the madness.

Haurchefant rushed to your side as soon as the fight died down, concern colouring his expression as he babbled about everything that happened.

“Things are going to be different, aren’t they?” You asked as he carefully wrapped your bleeding wrist in pristine white bandages - you didn’t even notice yourself - the callouses of his hands calmed you in a strange way. Familiar. Comforting.

He looked at you, and nodded solemnly.

You met with Hilda the next day, and Aymeric ventured to the Vault alone.

Estinien was furious, stomping around in the Forgotten Knight, the old floorboards creaking under his armored toes. He called Aymeric an idiot as if the man could hear him, and promptly slumped onto a chair beside the fireplace.

You eyed him strangely.

He threw his helmet onto the ground, and stared back with his stormy-grey eyes.

“I don’t know what I’d do if he doesn’t come back.” He croaked, and laughed, a bitter sound that hurt your ears, “Out of all people he should know better. ‘Twas him who saved my stupid arse back then, did you know?”

He told you the story about a decade ago, and shook his head, “How Haurchefant does it, ‘tis beyond my imagination. Even _thinking_ about losing him makes me panic.”

You stared at the tea in front of you, at its steaming mist.

“I don’t know what I’d do either if I lose -”

You stopped there, thought about eyes that matches the ocean outside Limsa Lominsa, and left it at that. Estinien didn’t pry. He went to the bar and asked for more ale, handed one to you, and downed his own in one gulp.

* * *

That night before the rescue mission, you snuck into Haurchefant’s room at the manor.

He was in his nightshirt. Hideous and hilarious. He looked down at himself and shrugged, waving you in.

“I can go if you’re going to sleep.” You mumbled, but stepped inside nonetheless.

He shrugged, “Hardly, and a fine lady shouldn’t break into a man’s room.”

You rolled your eyes, sat down on the fluffy couch, looking at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently, sitting beside you, your thighs almost touching.

Before you could stop yourself, the words just tumbled out, “Do I look like them?”

Confused, Haurchefant tilted his head in that dear way you’ve grown so fond of, “Who?”

“The…the one you lost. Francel said -”

The Elezen was silent for a long time, in reality it was probably just a few seconds, but to you they were long and painful.

In the end Haurchefant sighed, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

You wanted to shake him, to pry more answers out of him, even though you know it wasn’t your place to ask, it wasn’t your right to pry.

Your inner voice argued it concerned you anyways, as you share at least some resemblance with this mysterious person that took out a chunk of Haurchefant’s heart.

“If I tell you, can you tell me something first?”

“Sure…” You answered warily, “ask away.”

“What were you doing five years ago?”

You blinked, and you tried to find an answer to that question but failed miserably.

“I…couldn’t remember.”

He frowned, “If you don’t want to tell me -”

“No, I…there was an accident, at least I think there was, and I couldn’t remember anything up ‘til the point when I started to do deeds for the Adventurer’s Guild in Gridania. Nobody looked for me and I didn’t really feel the bother to dig up my own past.”

His eyes widen, “So you don’t remember anything? From the past, I mean.”

You nodded, sighing, resign in your voice, “Most of the time…sometimes I feel like I have these dreams about my past, but when I wake up I can’t remember them at all. And I get glimpses and fragments and weird DeJa’Vu’s, nothing clear enough to call it a memory though.”

“Forgive me for asking,” Haurchefant looked hopeful, and you couldn’t fathom why, “do you…have a tattoo on the back of your neck?”

You looked at him stupidly, “How…how did you know?”

You couldn’t really describe the light that sparkled in his eyes, like the brightest star, the undying flame - it spoke hope and compassion and love.

“A random thought,” He smiled at you, gentle and tender and full of raw emotions which you couldn’t understand, “To answer your question, no, you don’t. Not at all.”

You frowned, “What? But Francel said I do -”

“He must mean the bravery and strong-will, if I hazard a guess. Even the blindest person in the world can’t deny that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the Knight seemed genuine enough.

“Why did you come, then?” He asked, after a moment, “Is something bothering you?”

“No - I just…” You swallowed, “I don’t know, actually. It’s been so long since I last talked to you.”

Haurchefant smiled, teasing, “We wrote plenty.”

“The key word is ‘talk’, Haurchefant.” You glared without any heat, “What do you plan to do? After all this rubbish ends?”

He hummed, looking at the flickering candlelight, and then you, “Back to normal, perhaps. Schedules and budgets and shifts, as I’ve no better things on mind.”

“Don’t you want to travel?”

The Elezen pondered the question, and shrugged, “Coerthas is my home, I love it here, even after the Calamity came and destroyed a large part of it. I’ve…never thought about the possibility of what’s beyond, as I have my own duties and responsibilities. However, my friend,” He touched your hand briefly, smiling, “I’d love to hear your adventures, to see through your eyes.”

“I’ll make sure to write to you then, maybe bribe Alphinaud to draw a thing or two for you.”

He laughed, a delightful sound, “Master Alphinaud can draw?”

“Ah well, he’s a man with enough hidden talents.” You smiled back at him, “Are you going to get into trouble if I spend the night here?”

He looked surprised, but far from appalled. Pleased, even.

“What’s wrong with your room?” He teased, the heavy air between you were far gone.

“Too dark, too cold.” You mumbled, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You breathed in, looking down at his elegant hands, up at his lovely eyes, his soft smile.

Haurchefant held your hands in his, and you closed your eyes, feeling the pull of his aether, his scent, his body warmth. He sighed once, and you felt the curve of his lips pressing against your temple.

“Big day tomorrow, go to sleep. I shall fetch you a blanket.”

You lay down on the couch obediently to his soothing hands, and as you drifted off to sleep you sworn you heard him say -

“Goodnight, love.”

And you didn’t dream.

* * *

The Vault was magnificent, and your thoughts went to the Brume, to the broken sculptures and pillars littering around the Foundation. As if your hatred toward the Archbishop wasn’t enough already.

Estinien charged on with determination and hangover, and you wished you could smack him on the head with your cane to stop him swearing at every moving thing.

But you knew he was also thrumming with nerves, with worry and fear.

You parted ways in the middle, letting Haurchefant and Estinien to go rescue Aymeric while you marched upward. The Heavens’ Ward tried to stop you but to no avail. Their aether was tainted, and you were just a bit sorry for your inability to save them.

It was dusk, and you stood upon the Hall of Spear, looking down at the sea of mist. Charibert was shouting nonsense at you, babbling about his power and ambition and how great the Archbishop is. You sneered, proceeding to give chase after Zephirin disappeared to the platform.

Aymeric was okay, only a bit worse for wear. Estinien was pissed, Lucia looked back and forth between them and shrugged at you.

You smiled at Haurchefant, he nodded, smiling back. Aymeric shouted at the Archbishop about change and moving forward.

Everything happened so fast after you rushed forward with Haurchefant. A bright, piercing light. His strong back. The smell of blood and aether. The sound of his shield dropping to the ground, Aymeric’s scream, Lucia’s gasp. The setting sun hung over you like reflections of blood, and you just stood there, numb, until Aymeric came running and Haurchefant reached out to you.

“You…you’re unharmed? F-Forgive me…I could not bear the thought of…of…”

You dropped to your knees and held his hand, shaking your head as if that would do _anything._

“No, no no no no, you can’t die, you just can’t,”

You were crying, holding his limp hand against your heart, “Please, please don’t leave me,”

He smiled, broken and bloody, and you couldn’t even see his handsome face clearly through the mist of your tears.

“Oh, don’t look at me so,” His eyes were warm, and you could feel his aether slipping through the gaping hole in his chest, into the great beyond.

You shook your head and tried to stop him from speaking, fumbling with your cane, your magic, your aether.

He sighed weakly, coughed, tried to touch your teary face, “A smile better suits a hero.”

You tried to smile, but both of you could see it was hollow and sad and pitiful, but he smiled back anyways. You clenched his hand tighter, but his eyes were closing, his breathing was slowing.

“I’m so glad I…” His gaze lingered, relief flooding into his features.

Your eyes widened as the last bit of his aether dissolved.

“No…no,” You whispered, “Haurchefant, not when I haven’t -”

Aymeric whispered, “He’s gone.”

You shook your head, your mind screaming. Unfair. You raised your cane and started chanting. You could vaguely hear Estinien calling you stupid but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You poured your aether into Hauchefant’s body like prayer, save him, save him, your mind chanted with you, because there was no way he’d left you all alone.

You started to get dizzy, and Estinien was trying to pull you away from his body. You refused to go, still concentrating on your spells, your aether, your _love._

“You’re going to drain yourself dry, you moron!” Estinien roared, grabbing your wrist, and you cried and screamed and begged to the twelve and every primal and every deity to let him be saved.

They didn’t answer, and you blacked out, falling, falling, and falling, into the bottomless abyss of your past, your memories, your broken love.

* * *

You were sixteen when the weird teenager entered your life. Francel rolled his eyes and introduced you to Haurchefant Greystone, the youngest knight in a long while.

Haurchefant inclined his head, reaching out to shake your hand.

“Sometimes you give me too much credit, Francel.” He grinned, nudging Francel’s shoulder, and turned to you again, “It isn’t such a big deal, believe me.”

“It is!” Francel argued, “You saved me with naught but a _knife_! A sodding knife!”

“LANGUAGE!” Francel’s maid, your foster mother, yelled from afar, and you looked at each other, burst out laughing.

Francel was five years younger than you, and his father was kind enough to let you play together since both of your foster parents work for him - your father as a valued member of the Skysteel Manufactory, your mother as the maid to Francel.

“It’s good to finally see you in person,” You told Haurchefant, dodging Francel’s elbow in the process, “Francel won’t even shut up about you since you saved him last month. Ah, well, he wouldn’t shut up about you anyways.”

Haurchefant arched an eyebrow, and grinned, “As long as you aren’t mad of me stealing your play mate.”

“Hardly,” You rolled your eyes, “he’s not allowed to go out _all_ the time.”

Francel pouted, and your mum came to drag all three of you to wash your hands before tea.

 _Haurchefant of the Silver Fuller_ , you recited in your mind, looking at his brilliant blue eyes.

You decided you liked him, and offered him one of your favorite biscuits.

* * *

When Francel started to have private lessons the year after, you thought the young Knight wouldn’t come by anymore. So when he showed up despite Francel being absent, you almost fell of the railing you were sitting on.

He looked at you, laughed, reaching out to help you get down.

“A lady shouldn’t do that,” Haurchefant grinned, his tone playful, “you would hurt your pretty ankles and flawless skin.”

You rolled your eyes and slapped him on the arm, “Hush, I’m sure you know Francel isn’t here, and don’t tell me you came just to mock me.”

“Can’t I visit my other dear friend?” He winked at you, “come, the weather is nice, I found a great place just outside Camp Dragonhead.”

And “just outside” turned out to be miles and miles and miles away, up top on the Providence Point. A patch of flowers swaying in the wind, as a giant tree reaching up-top of the blue sky, Ishgard stood proud and magnificent as always beyond the whirling mist.

“I thought we ought to have a picnic once in awhile,” He patted the spot beside him under the tree, “and without Francel’s monstrous appetite.”

You laughed, and picked out a sandwich from the basket, “Mum says he’s growing so it’s understandable, which I think it’s a load of shite.”

“Ah, at least he still has to train with the other boys, or else he’d gain more weight than us combined. But enough about our mutual friend, what is it that you were working on recently?”

“Oh,” You blinked, “I’m studying to become a conjurer. Nature magic is fascinating, you know?”

Haurchefant’s eyes were glinting, and he seemed proud, “That’s fantastic! When will you be attending the exam?”

“I’m not going to scholasticate - they won’t accept me anyways. I’m going to try my luck at Gridania, after all, they’re the experts.”

“Ah.” Haurchefant blinked, “You’re leaving, then?”

You shrugged, “Probably, once I’ve reached 18.”

He was silent and you glanced over to him, and shook your head in disbelief, “Come on, Haurchefant, I’m not _gone_. Gridania is hardly days away, and I imagine I’d be doing a fair amount of traveling. I’d still visit, _if_ you get time for me, soon-to-be commander.”

Haurchefant laughed, “So you’ve heard.”

“With Francel how could I not?”

“Will you promise me to visit often if I promise that I shall always clear my schedule for you?”

You smiled, and saw him smiling back at you, like the breaking dawn.

“Promise.”

* * *

Haurchefant was easy to love.

During one of the many, many visits you paid to Dragonhead, you kissed him in front of the warm fireplace in his quarters.

He tasted like hot-chocolate.

The young commander looked at you with the most brilliant smile and joy and affection, drawing you into his arms.

* * *

Your father died of an illness in the autumn of your 20th year.

Haurchefant stood beside you during the funeral, holding your hand in his. Your mother was weeping and Francel’s father spoke, how great a man your father was. How he’d be remembered and honored.

You were numb, as if your brain still couldn’t wrap around the fact that you could no longer see him laugh.

“Perfectly allowed to cry.” Haurchefant whispered that night, in the safe darkness in his room, holding you close under the blankets.

You told him about your past. How your birth-parents died in the Dragonsong war and the kind couple from House Haillenarte took you in and treated you as their own.

“I couldn’t remember my real parents anyways,” You mumbled into his hideous nightshirt, sniffling, “dad was…he was always so wise, told me that we all have darkness and light within ourselves, and no matter how much despair I’d be in, I shouldn’t give in to the lure of darkness.”

Haurchefant’s hand stroked your back, his lips close to your temple, “Very wise words, indeed. I am sure he would be happy to see you happy, and he would watch over you from beyond.”

“I love you.” You croaked, “Don’t leave me like that.”

“I would never.” He kissed your forehead, “I’ll always be here.”

* * *

You gained the Echo, became the Warrior of Light, fought and fought and fought alongside your friends and companions. You could sense something was off, as the red dot in the sky continued to become bigger.

You went home to him every once in awhile, nonetheless. You felt like you could finally breathe again when he held you in his arms. You watched him grew taller, stronger. And he said he was so, so proud of you whenever you dropped by.

Then the Calamity came.

He begged you not to go, but you were stubborn and wouldn’t hear a word he said.

In the end, Haurchefant gave in, tracing his finger on the tattoo Louisoix gave you on the back of your neck.

“Promise you’d come back to me.”

You smiled into his shoulder, “Promise.”

* * *

And to Haurchefant, you never came back.

The acres of flowers turned into ashen white snow. The tree fell.

It was so, so cold.

* * *

Then you woke up.

You blinked, the cackling of fire and blowing wind told you that you were still at the room in the Forgotten Knights. You gasped, and immediately got mauled by a furious dragoon.

“What in the bloody hell were you thinking?” He yelled, clenching on your shoulder, “No man - no fucking Warrior of the fucking Light can bring a dead man back, dying, sure, not _dead_! You were in a coma for a solid _week_! Have you any idea how everyone felt? The boy was worried sick and refused to sleep, Aymeric was beside himself and thought it was all _his_ fault. Not to mention the Count - how do you supposed he’d feel when his own son died and the person he died saving was on the brink of death herself!”

“I’m sorry…” You rasped numbly, and Estinien let you go with resignation.

“You bloody better be,” He grumbled, “I’ll go and let the others know you’re alive, and we’re off to Azyz Lla as soon as you feel better.”

The rest of the day was spent with a hoard of people, fussing over you at your bedside. The Count arrived in the evening, looking ten years older, and sighed.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, and added hesitantly, “For…”

“Hush, lass.” The Count shook his head, “A knight lives to serve. To protect. To Sacrifice. There is no greater calling.”

You sniffed, and looked at the ceiling again, “I suppose. What makes him think -” You choked, and started again, “What makes him think that he’s obliged to save me when both of us know that it wasn’t _his_ fault that he couldn’t do the same the first time around?”

The Count looked at you strangely, and you could see the realization flooding over his face, and he sat down heavily onto the chair beside your bed.

“You…”

“I’m sorry,” You croaked out, “for breaking his heart five years ago. For being stubborn and reckless. For couldn’t save him. For not remembering until it was too late.”

Edmont - as he insisted you calling him all those years ago - patted your hand, “ It is hardly your fault, my dear.”

Tears ran down your face as you babbled about what happened. About the Calamity. About how Louisoix sent you across time for the greater good. How your memory somehow got damaged in the process and couldn’t remember the one you loved the most.

“Oh god,” You laughed hysterically, “how unfair it is, how fucking unfair - I’ve only remembered the love of my life _after_ when it’s too late. I haven’t even told him I fell in love with him - again - and he just - he just -”

Edmont held your hand and sat there, all night, even after you cried yourself to sleep.

* * *

You journeyed to Azyz Lla after Edmont promised you that they’d handle the funeral and memorial. You didn’t argue about attending, as you had more important matters. The urge of vengeance surging through your veins, burning, burning, and burning.

Estinien was giving you strange looks the whole way through, and then Ysayle died.

You broke down right after, yelling into the abyss swirling around Azyz Lla, about how unfair it was, how painful and helpless and _unfair._

“Have we not lost enough?” You cried and cried and cried, and Alphinaud held you, but he was shaking too.

You faced the Archbishop and the Heavens’ Ward, your aether driving through the facade of Thordan with a taste of revenge. You wanted to laugh, at the irony that was. How were you different from Nidhogg, when everything you did was out of vengeance?

You stood, stoically, when Aymeric closed off the last page of the Dragonsong War. The compliments seemed so fragile, so you turned and leave.

Artoriel eyed you in concern and you tried to act normal, but how could you be normal when there were nothing left to pursue your revenge?

The darkness was calling. And it was so, _so_ _tempting._

* * *

In the end, you visited Francel in the Skyfire Locks instead.

He smiled sadly at you, and made you hot-chocolate. It wasn’t the same.

“It really is you.”

“Yeah.” You looked at the ground, “Turns out you aren’t as delusional as five years ago.”

Francel slapped you on the arms lightly, “Hey, stop mocking me.”

You fell into silence again.

“So -” He started, a quiet murmur, “Why did you come?”

“Honestly?” You laughed bitterly, “I don’t know anymore. I felt like - I’ve lost my purpose. I stumbled through the past few weeks living on nothing but the desire to find revenge, and now everything ended I felt so hollow and barren again. I couldn’t face _anyone_. Edmont is still mourning, Alphinaud is on a quest to find all the other Scion members now there’s a clue, Aymeric is busy with politics and Lucia is even busier with all the threats coming from those idiots who still believe in the Archbishop. I guess I can talk to Estinien, but that arsehole is nowhere to be seen.”

Francel nodded, and sighed, “You - you wanted to find peace, do you not?”

“‘Suppose.” You mumbled into your drink, “I kept thinking about the past and all those thoughts just send me into a never-ending loop of self-doubt and self-pity. I kept thinking how many stories are left unfinished. How many lives abandoned. How many souls went back to the stars and never came back. How many paths met with dead ends and I’m so bloody tired. I felt like I’m stuck, Francel, stuck in between the living and the dead - I’m not supposed to be alive, it was supposed to be _me_ that sodding spear went through, not - not him. Never _him_.”

He was your safe place. Your sanctuary. The only one you could come home and vent, the only one who’d have endless patience and sweet smiles and warm embraces. And you lost him. You had nowhere to go. Nobody to turn to. No home.

You were crying now, Francel panicked and rushed over to comfort you. But it wasn’t the same. The height was wrong and Francel would never be as broad as Haurchefant. You wailed until you were hyperventilating, so he gave you a dose of sleeping draught and put you to bed.

Of course you dreamed about him. Of course you dreamed about his soft eyes and kind smile and elegant hands. Of course you dreamed about the last moment of him and about blood and tears and broken bonds.

* * *

When you woke up, Francel handed you a bouquet of lilies.

“Go see your parents, I think you’d find answers there.”

Your eyes widened, “My…my mum is…?”

Francel nodded sadly, “The healer said it’s due to grief, which weakened her drastically, and she couldn’t handle the climate change. We buried her beside your father, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you this after everything you’ve been through. I’m so sorry.”

You nodded, dumbly, and went to the graveyard. For a long time you just sat there, and put your forehead against your father’s headstone.

“I don’t know anymore,” You closed your eyes, “I’ve tried so hard to not give in, dad, but…but it’s too hard. At least for now. When the pain is still too fresh, too raw. I know everyone’s been tip-toeing around me, and I’m so bloody selfish, it must have been hard for Francel too but he’s looking after _me_. Really, what’d he say if he’s really up there watching all of this? Watching me break down into this sorry piece of shite -”

A hand came resting on your shoulder, and you looked up, startled, to see Estinien, out of his armor and looking as casual as possible.

“It never gets easier, if that’s what you’re asking.” He said, sitting down beside you, “I lived half of my life, too, on vengeance. ‘Twas not for Aymeric I’d be dead as a dragon’s meal, if not, then I’d still be walking these plains seeking the twisted justice I once believed in. There were nights, still, when I dreamed about my brother’s death. Some days are much worse than others. But we ought to move forward.”

You looked at him, “You never struck me as the type.”

“What? Offer comfort?” Estinien snorted, “‘course not, and Aymeric would be laughing his arse off if you mentioned this to him. But…we can’t have our hero sulking like this, can we?”

“I’m no one’s hero.” You gritted out, “Not if I can’t even save…”

The dragoon rolled his eyes, “Look, even someone as great as you couldn’t save _everyone._ But you saved the entire Coerthas by ending the fucking war. ‘Tis safe to say that Haurchefant did not die in vain. You’ve already repaid your debt.”

You blinked away your tears, and looked down at your parents’ headstones, when he continued.

“But of course, the pain would not go away, he’d always be a part of you. As my brother to me. Let him be your power, your determination to move forward. Let every step you walk to honor him, let every breath you take to remind him - wherever he is - that you’re alive because of him. Remember him by not throwing your life away at any given chance, but to live it to the fullest.”

You buried your head in your arms, your voice muffled by your shirt sleeves, “I didn’t expect you, of all people, would be giving me such useful advice. Who are you and what’ve you done to the rude Estinien I know?”

“What can I say? I’m in the mood.” The dragoon mused, “But to be honest, I was paraphrasing the shite Aymeric told me. You have to admit he has his moments.”

You laughed, as absurd as it was, he did offer you the comfort you need - especially from someone you knew who suffered from the same type of loss.

“Thank you.” You told him, “I think - I think I was looking for some type of closure, but I’m drowning in my own turmoil so it’s nowhere to be found.”

He patted your arm, “‘Tis there, when you’re ready for it.”

* * *

So you kept yourself busy, helping Alphinaud to track everybody down. You dreamed less and less about the death, more and more about his dear smile, his lovely hands, his adoring face. After you rescued Thancred and Y’shtola, you stepped into the gate of Ishgard, helping out their most recent incident.

You felt like you were ready to move forward again.

Edmonot smiled fondly at you when you went back to the manor, his eyes were kind and sad, and he handed you the broken shield.

“I’m sure you know where to find him.” Edmont patted your hand, “He’ll be delighted.”

You nodded, and went to Gridania first.

* * *

Gladiolus. Campanula. Hydrangea. Statice. Sunflower. Tulip.

Carnation. Lavender. Rosemary. Azalea. Cloves. Heliotrope. Ivy.

Primrose. Poppy. Daffodil. Snowdrop. Forget-me-not.

Asphodel. Flax. Elderblossom.

Rainflower.

* * *

You planted the seeds around his memorial, and put the shield beside the headstone.

“The seeds are charmed, they’ll grow even in the worst weather and never wither, so you can have a piece of our past with you,” You told him, sitting down and leaning against the stone, “some of those are exotic, and hard to find, but well, I’m determined and stubborn. This doesn’t mean I forgive you, you know? I had already gained two-thirds of my power, and I could’ve survived the attack. But I guess we are both selfish morons, ‘cause if I think about it, I’d do the same for you.

“Still mad at you, though. I miss you terribly everyday. I still wake up every morning, thinking you’re still there, and then realizing that you’re gone forever.

“Estinien, out of all people, made me pulled my head out of my arse and started to live again. I guess he’s right, you wouldn’t want me to walk the path of revenge. Because you’re kind and sweet and too fucking good.”

You sobbed once.

“I’m so sorry I’ve forgotten you. So, so sorry.” You mumbled, blinking away the tears, “I’m sorry I put you through that, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I fell in love with you again. I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise.”

You stood up, lifted your cane to bring the aether around you. Nature magic flowing through your core, into the ground.

 _Kindness._ You thought as you poured your aether out, out, out.

The brilliant flowers bloomed and bloomed and bloomed. You stood there, in that acres and acres of your memories and your words unspoken, and smiled.

You watched the mist parted and Ishgard stood tall and proud. The sky was clear.

You leaned down, touching your lips to the cold stone.

“I love you. Always.”

You heard yourself say, and straightened up again. There were going to be thousands and thousands of tomorrows ahead of you, but you knew you’d miss him through all those days, and you’d welcome the end, knowing you’ll be together at last.

You started to walk away, and it was probably a trick of the wind, but you sworn you’ve heard -

_“Until then, my love.”_

END

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Elrakismk2) even if I do nothing but retweet.
> 
> For those who're interested in flower languages and not really want to go to wikipedia:
> 
> Gladiolus: Faithfulness. Honor.  
> Campanula: Gratitude  
> Hydrangea: Heartfelt emotions  
> Statice: Rememberance. Sympathy. Success.  
> Sunflower: Adoration and dedicated love.  
> Tulip: Perfect love.  
> Carnation: Admiration, regret.  
> Lavender: Devotion  
> Rosemary: Rememberance  
> Azalea: Take care, gratitude, passion.  
> Cloves: Undying love.  
> Heliotrope: Devotion  
> Ivy: Faithfulness  
> Primrose: Eternal love.  
> Poppy: Dreams and peace.  
> Daffodil: new beginnings.  
> Snowdrop: Hope
> 
> Asphodel: My regrets follow you to the grave. 
> 
> Flax: Home.
> 
> Elder-blossom: Kindness.
> 
> Rainflower: I love you back, I must atone for my sins, I will never forget you


End file.
